In the past few years, borderline personality disorder has emerged as the "hot" mental illness. It's undoubtedly relevant now that Amber Heard has the condition, according to Johnny Depp's hired therapist (based on speculation and rather sloppy).
Hi, my name is Divya, and my daughter's name is Aarushi. I call her Aaru. She also had BPD. This is our tale.
The condition is primarily misunderstood.
Like others, we had a happy family until she left home
for higher studies. I was shattered as she was my everything. When we met last, she was in a haze of alcohol, impulse, and debauchery.
Initially, things were great in her college. She was amusing, quirky, and adorable. She had a childhood passion for music. Soon she started having emotional issues with her chosen profession and friends. She began to argue.
Four months in, I had my hands complete.
She dropped a bombshell on me at dinner. She said, "I
got diagnosed with bipolar disorder a year ago." Then she said she hadn't been taking
any medications for a year. I convinced her to see a doctor. Surprisingly,
she was diagnosed with borderline personality disorder (a second doctor later
confirmed this diagnosis).
I'd never heard of the illness. I was shocked when I
looked at the symptoms. They perfectly described what was happening. Aaru's case
was severe (and not indicative of all cases). Starting therapy was something I
instinctually felt was right at the time.
Fear of
abandonment
We had terrible fights, worse than I've ever had
with anyone. I would get so confused by her sudden hostility. It went from zero
to 100 and never felt justified. At her worst, she displayed this odd version
of "switching." She'd shout, "I hate you! Get out!" Then, as I stood up to get
my things, she'd pivot and say, "N-n-n-no, don't leave, please. I'm sorry. I'm
sorry."
Emotional instability is a signature symptom. But it
doesn't mean instability in the traditional sense. Instability usually means
that patients are walloped by their emotions. When things were good with Aaru,
things were great, as good as any relationship could be. Our time together was
flowery and full of joy. She was angelic. She made me feel like the most loved
mother in the world.
However, this threat of explosion always lurked. Therapy
revealed this reactiveness is often because of avoidance strategies. She would
look for ways around any negative emotion. Treatment involves getting patients
to feel and experience emotions rather than letting them bottle up and explode.
Black and
white thinking
Friends are often the best person in the world or a backstabbing soulless traitor.
Aaru got obsessed with some new friends. She'd always talk about them like they were reunited, twins. It got to the point
where I had to ask her to stop talking about them so much. Then, something
would happen. That friend would be cut out completely, or she'd stop talking to
Aaru. Aaru often conjured up conspiracy theories about people not liking her.
She said these friends were talking wrong about her behind her back or making
plans and deliberately cutting her out of them. I felt like I was always
working to bring her back down to Earth.
Deep
insecurity and self-esteem issues
We'd be sitting in a living room on a peaceful afternoon, and she'd start asking, "Why are you acting so weird?"
"I'm not."
"Yes, you are. You are being so weird."
"No, I'm reading a book."
Five minutes later.
"Stop acting so weird. What's wrong."
Literally, nothing was wrong. She'd poke me for an hour
like this until I'd flip out.
The sad irony is that her fear of abandonment was the
very thing that pushed everyone away.
If a person asks you if you love them like a broken
record, you'll eventually be forced to ask yourself the same question.
The cause of
the disorder
It's not a condition I'd wish on anyone. Treatment is
highly challenging and requires a team of professionals. The causes are
often abuse, neglect (in childhood especially), and other genetic factors. She was drawn to chaos and more trauma. She was always in search of
something that could never be found.
Breakups
tend to be monstrously chaotic.
The fear of abandonment, combined with impulsiveness,
anger, and neuroticism (vulnerability to negative emotions), makes breakups the
stuff of nightmares. Breaking up with someone is a form of rejection. It's you
telling a person you don't want them. This touches the nuclear core of someone
with BPD. They'll react aggressively or pleadingly to fix things. Sometimes
both. There is also an untapped resentment that builds up. Borderline patients
are often extreme people pleasers.
When things are good, they'll do everything they can to
make you feel like the most loved boyfriend in the world. Sometimes, they'll
change who they are for you (even if that is the opposite of what you want). And
when things don't work out, they'll unleash this massive tsunami of resentment
that was waiting like a volcano. Aaru had this mindset that she was unwanted
because of her breakup. Her anger towards me, and her friends, was a defensive
mechanism to protect herself from being hurt again. She went through absolute
hell in her relationships.
Lastly,
people with BPD face a vast stigma.
BPD is becoming the flag illness of "the crazy
girlfriend/wife/ daughter," which isn't fair because the disease also affects
men but manifests differently.
The stigma is partial because you only hear about
outlier cases — like the one I just shared. Many people with borderline live
good, fruitful lives. However, they have to put tremendous work into themselves
and get better. Sadly, Aaru's life hasn't gone well. She's fallen into
substance abuse and has struggled to continue studying. It magnified her symptoms
(the volatility), and she refused to do therapy or take her medications,
which was the final straw.
Her
Therapist Recommended Reading this Poem — & it healed her esteem to some extent.
I received an email with a poem from
her called, How I Became a Warrior by Jeff Foster. This poem
transfixed her. It made her tear up and reconstruct her self-esteem. She
probably felt vulnerable with the word warrior women". Here's the
poem.
how I became a warrior
Once, I ran from fear, so fear controlled me.
Until I learned to hold fear like a newborn.
Listen to it, but not give in.
Honor it, but not worship it.
Fear could not stop me anymore.
I walked with courage into the storm.
I still have fear,
but it does not have me.
Once, I was ashamed of who I was.
I invited shame into my heart.
I let it burn.
It told me, "I am only trying
to protect your vulnerability."
I thanked shame dearly
and stepped into life anyway,
unashamed, with shame as a lover.
Once, I had great sadness
buried deep inside.
I invited it to come out and play.
I wept oceans. My tear ducts ran dry.
And I found joy right there.
Right at the core of my sorrow.
It was heartbreak that taught me how to love.
Once, I had anxiety.
A mind that wouldn't stop.
Thoughts that wouldn't be silent.
So I stopped trying to silence them.
And I dropped out of the mind,
and into the Earth.
Into the mud.
Where I was held strong
like a tree, unshakeable, safe.
Once, anger burned in the depths.
I called anger into the light of myself.
I felt its shocking power.
I let my heart pound and my blood boil.
Listened to it, finally.
And it screamed, "Respect yourself fiercely now!".
"Speak your truth with passion!".
"Say no when you mean no!".
"Walk your path with courage!".
"Let no one speak for you!"
Anger became an honest friend.
A truthful guide.
A beautiful wild child.
Once, loneliness cut deep.
I tried to distract and numb myself.
Ran to people and places and things.
Even pretended I was "happy."
But soon, I could not run anymore.
And I tumbled into the heart of loneliness.
And I died and was reborn
into an exquisite solitude and stillness.
That connected me to all things.
So I was not lonely, but alone with All Life.
My heart is One with all other hearts.
Once, I ran from difficult feelings.
Now, they are my advisors, confidants, friends,
and they all have a home in me,
and they all belong and have dignity.
I am sensitive, soft, fragile,
my arms wrapped around all my inner children.
And in my sensitivity, power.
In my fragility, an unshakeable Presence.
In the depths of my wounds,
in what I had named "darkness"
I found a blazing Light
that guides me now in battle.
I became a warrior
when I turned towards myself.
And started listening.
~ poem, written by Jeff Foster
